


Touch

by lastcrazyhorn



Series: Unexpected Desire [2]
Category: Midsomer Murders - All Media Types
Genre: Fantasizing, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:34:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29441253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lastcrazyhorn/pseuds/lastcrazyhorn
Summary: Tom reacts to George kissing him.That is to say, his cock reacts.
Relationships: Tom Barnaby/George Bullard
Series: Unexpected Desire [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2162526
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8
Collections: Midsomer_Melee





	Touch

Tom kept one hand on the wheel as he drove home that evening. The other hand he kept near his face, one finger tracing his lips as his mind focused solely on the feel of George’s lips on his own. It was a wonder he managed to get home without mishap, as he drove completely on autopilot.  
  
His cock was partially chubbed up, half-hard in his trousers and he very pointedly did not think about why.  
  
Thankfully, Joyce was engrossed in a book in the den, and he only got a distracted ‘hello’ as he came in.  
  
He hurried up the stairs to their bedroom and headed for the shower. He needed some time alone to think.  
  
He cleaned himself more quickly than usual, before leaning back against the cool wall tile. He took his cock in hand and touched his lips with the other as he recalled the sensation that had blossomed between them.  
  
He remembered the heat coming off of George’s hand as it cradled his cheek. He remembered the softness of his lips and the absolute passion staring back at him from his eyes.  
  
He stroked his cock slowly, mentally still sitting on the sofa with George. He wondered—shamefully—what it would feel like with another man’s hand on his cock.  
  
His cock didn’t seem to care as it hardened further. He had long admired George’s intellect, and his wit, and now as he allowed himself to think on it, he realised that there were other _physical_ things he admired as well.  
  
Precome trickled over his fingers and was washed away by the shower water. He licked his lip and leaned his head back, stance automatically widening as he imagined George reaching out to him.  
  
His breath caught and he felt his cheeks flame brightly as he allowed himself to imagine George’s hand on his cock.  
  
 _Would he even want to?_  
  
He thought back to George’s face, to the sight of tenderness that had bled through into his expression as he had leaned toward him, and he was fairly certain he knew the answer.  
  
His breath hitched again, and he stroked his free hand across his chest, the heat building in his cock as he did.  
  
His mind wandered back to their interactions through the years, and he increased the speed of his hand.  
  
He thought of every time they had sat close enough to feel the heat from the other. He thought of George’s hands; how precisely he used a scalpel, to the ease with which he cracked open the rib cages of a thousand different victims through the years.  
  
He had always expected George’s hands to be cold from the bodies he worked on, but his hands were always warm when they touched him.  
  
He realised that he _wanted_ George to push him into a wall, to put a hand to his chest and _hold_ him in place as he took . . . _anything_ he wanted. Everything.   
  
His hand was flying over his cock, slick with precome and soap and need.  
  
He needed. God, he needed.  
  
He closed his eyes and imagined George’s cocky grin, the feel of his hand on his arm, maybe even the feel his knee shoving itself between his legs, giving him something to rut against like a desperate randy teen.  
  
His leg would be muscular, he knew from experience, it’d be like rubbing off against heated rock.  
  
A groan ripped from his throat as he abruptly tumbled over the edge of orgasm. He came hard, semen shooting across the stall to hit the other wall and drip slowly toward the drain.  
  
He blinked slowly as it happened, mind overcome as he came harder than he could remember doing in recent history.  
  
George’s phantom touches still lingered on his skin and he shivered as he felt those sensations continue on, even post-orgasm. He groaned again and shook his head.  
  
He didn’t know this side of himself. He ached to be alone in his thoughts once again and he ached to be touched by something he had just learned to crave.  
  
He turned off the water, and stumbled out into the bathroom proper. He cleared a spot on the mirror and stared at himself. His pupils were wide and his face was flushed. He couldn’t see what George wanted in him, but he wasn’t about to turn it down.


End file.
